


Something Great

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23164093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Hot Rod is jealous of Perceptor and Drift’s ability to grow and change.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock & Hot Rod, Drift | Deadlock & Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Something Great

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on December 4, 2013 as “Drabble #99 - Rodimus/Drift.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on March 15, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.
> 
> Takes place during All Hail Megatron.

Hot Rod was staring at Perceptor.

Granted, a lot of the Autobots had been staring at Perceptor with their jaws dropped and optics wide since he arrived with the Wreckers, but this was different. Hot Rod wasn’t in awe, or confused–he just looked focused. Like he was studying something. Drift would be lying if he wasn’t curious.

Drift stood quietly beside the orange and red Autobot, who was leaning on a half-wall of rubble in their make shift shelter. Across the way, Perceptor was polishing his sniper rifle. Drift said, “Hot Rod.”

“Hey,” Hot Rod said, turning his head a little. His optics looked behind Drift as if he expected there to be someone else, but met Drift’s optics when he noticed they were alone. He leaned to the side, sliding a hand behind his helm. “Uh, sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to step on your toes back there, but Bumblebee gets under my plating sometime, and I get a little hot headed.”

“No, that’s alright,” Drift said, shrugging a bit and choosing to ignore the joke. “I don’t mind.”

“Do you really not mind, or are you just saying that to avoid a fight?” Hot Rod asked, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t know many Wreckers who appreciate it when someone jumps in the middle of their conversation.”

“Does Bumblebee get under your plating, or do you just like starting fights?” Drift asked in reply, smiling a little bit.

Hot Rod laughed, slumping over to lean his head on his upper arm, his forearm still sticking up in the air. Drift was a little jealous of his relaxed form. Hot Rod twirled a finger around in the air, as his optics went back to watching Perceptor. “A little of both.”

“I sort of wish I knew him before the upgrades,” Drift said, watching Hot Rod. “The way everyone stares at Perceptor, the change must be bigger than I thought.”

“If you would have told me last month that Perceptor, geeky-I-use-too-many-syllables-Perceptor, had taken up the Sniper Rifle and was an active member of the Wreckers, I would have reported you to med bay for processor failure,” Hot Rod said. He pushed back up, leaning on his crossed forearms. “I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” Drift asked. He hesitated with his next word, and chose to remain silent.

Bright blue optics shifted to Drift, and Hot Rod’s smile stayed on his face–but the optics were bitter. “Little jealous of you, too.”

Drift rested his hand on his sword hilt. “I don’t follow. Jealous of what?”

“Being able to change,” Hot Rod said. He vented heavily and pushed off the wall. He turned around and slid down until his back was resting against it. “Perceptor’s found a new way to fight back. You found a way to step above your old life, and start a new one. You’ve both. You did something I can’t seem to do.

"I want to change. I need to change. I need,” Hot Rod said, covering his mouth. His spoilers dug into the wall as he pressed back, little bits of dirt scraping the side. “No matter how many teams I lead, or talk with Optimus, or go out there and fight–I still feel like that stupid kid from Nyon who doesn’t know what he’s doing. My friends, and the people under me keep dying. I can’t–I need to change. I need to be better, and maybe then I’ll have a right to be a leader. Maybe then I’ll be able to protect them.”

Drift knelt next to Hot Rod and put his hand on the red mech’s knee. “I didn’t want to change.

"I was perfectly content continuing to be selfish and cruel after I ran from Turmoil,” Drift said. Hot Rod opened his mouth and Drift cut him off, “Yes, ran. I made a grab for leader, and failed. So it was run or suffer, and being selfish: I ran. I changed from Deadlock to Drift, because I met someone who made even my spark care. I needed to change, or the people I cared about would have died.”

“Yeah, but that’s–”

“Perceptor changed, because he was in a situation where his survival depended on it. He couldn’t live with the Wreckers without stepping up,” Drift said. “He changed because he needed to, or he’d die.

"If you really needed to change, Hot Rod,” Drift said, squeezing his leg. “I think you would have. From what I’ve seen, a mech who stands up for others, and has so much concern for the men under him, doesn’t have much room for things that need to be changed.”

“That right, oh wise one?” Hot Rod asked. There was a smile on his face, but no bite to his words. He just looked tired. And contemplative.

“No,” Drift said. He slumped next to Hot Rod on the wall, holding his sword between his legs. His grip tightened on it, thinking of the mechs who gave it to him. The mech he’d lost earning it. “Great mechs don’t need to change. They’re there to give the rest of us reason to be better, and match their example.”

“I’m not a great mech,” Hot Rod said, lacing his fingers together and leaning toward Drift. His spoiler brushed Drift’s shoulder.

“You will be,” Drift said, drawing his thumb down the writing on the blade. “And I don’t think you’ll need to change to do it.”

“And how do you figure that?” Hot Rod asked, shifting his leg in the dirt.

“Changing who you are, and growing up aren’t the same thing,” Drift said. “One’s changing charcoal into diamond, while the other is cutting the shape of the stone into something perfect.”

Hot Rod laughed, hearty and healthy. He slid further down the wall, putting his knees in the air. He thumped Drift in the thigh with his knuckles. “Into philosophy, are you?”

“Thought of dabbling in it,” Drift smiled, leaning his head toward Hot Rod. “You think it suits me?”

“Better than me, buddy,” Hot Rod shook his head. “That’s for sure.”

 _Buddy._ Drift smiled and leaned on the wall as Hot Rod chuckled quietly, his body warm and engine revving.

Philosophy or not–changed or not–this was a mech destined for something great. Drift hoped he got to see it.


End file.
